The Second Proposal: All in a Name
by FalalalaLa
Summary: Germany finally realizes years after his first proposal what his friend Italy truly means to him and wishes to propose a second time, though what France suggests isn't something Germany can find simply, for a nation's true name is not easily found.


Germany couldn't believe he was doing this, especially with what had happened years ago when he tried to propose to Italy in that Italian restaurant one evening. The book he had read was followed perfectly down to every last sentence and Germany did not skip one line, but the realization of what he was _really_ doing and his actions from the past week of giving Italy gifts and showering him with affection suddenly fell apart inside him and embarrassment quickly took over, something he couldn't just brush off with a cough and a turn of the head. It didn't help that Italy was standing right in front of him crying and apologizing refusively. That disastrous night was something Germany did not want to repeat ever again.

But there was something Germany did want to repeat. The emotions he had felt while with Italy. It made him realize, long after the proposal, that his most trusted friend was someone he did not want to be friends with, but something more. At first Germany tried ignoring it, believing it to be the remembrance of the emotion from the time, though the feeling was persistent. It haunted him for days and never left his side, making sure to appear even more so while in the presence of Italy and make him feel like his heart would burst out of his chest. Well, love did always have strange ways. And it's not that uncommon for nations to be together, whether it be for political or personal reasons.

The only problem Germany saw with his idea of _another_ proposal was how to go about it. Italy and himself had long silently decided not to talk about the event, but since then they were even more close than before. They've gone out plenty of times to eat somewhere nice or to just make a point to visit the other often. It was because their relationship seemed to naturally close them in together that Germany wanted to do this. The book obviously did not work, and Germany feared for a similar situation if he tried a different dating manual, so here he was, sitting in France's living room. France, trying to land his hands on Germany's well-toned muscles and thighs, showered him with poetic words when greeting him, each the more romantic than the last until Germany admitted that he had come for advice, then of which France immediately sat his guest down and listened to what he had to say.

"Hmm... a proposal is what you want, correct?" France asked, taking a sip of champagne while leaning back in his seat. "That is... one way to go about it, my friend. So bold! Not even a date first! You are sure this is the path you wish to take? Not that I am against it, I'm positive Italy would be happy, but I want to make sure you are ready for this, Germany."

Germany sighed, his hand rubbing into his slicked-back blond hair, his cheeks a light pink. "I'm not too sure this is the right way to do it, but I believe it is the most effective way to truly show what I want to convey to Italy. Besides, we've been... "dancing", as America would put it, around each other for so many years now, it feels as though we have been uh... dating already."

France smiled, uncrossing his legs to lean forward. "A very Germany-like way to approach this, I must say. Okay, I shall help you." A relieved Germany nodded his head, allowing a small hint of a smile to show on his face in appreciation.

"Now, I have an idea that will definitely surprise Italy to the point where he will surely understand your feelings correctly and accept right then and there. I'm positive you don't know his real name, do you?"

The nation in question paused, scrutinizing France. "Italy's name? Of course I do not know that."

France sighed. "Of course you wouldn't, you two are so slow on the matter!" Suddenly the nation grinned, worrying Germany. "Then that's it! Get him someplace nice, like a restaurant or a park, an evening stroll somewhere (Italy loves to visit beautiful places just like myself!), and when you propose use his real name! I guarantee it'll work in surprising him and having him all over you! And of course afterwards you two could find a nearby hotel and have some lovely one-on-one time with your-"

"Wait one minute, France!" Germany shouted, his voice slowly raising in volume. "Using a nation's name is only meant for the nations that are like family o-or something much more personal!"

"Which is exactly why you should do it! It'll show Italy how much you mean to him."

France did have a point, it would be one way to do it. A nation's name was like a well-kept secret that was hidden among all of the nations, only used in intimate situations when alone with a special person or between nations that were considered family. Some share their names between their very good friends. There were a rare few that did not mind using their names more publicly, but the vast majority kept the tradition. Germany himself only knew a handful. The more Germany thought on the idea, the more it made sense. He and Italy have been friends for over a century now, and while compared to other nations that would consider it a short amount of time, in Germany's lifetime it has been so long. Really, it's silly enough that they still aren't together after all that had happened during the second World War, but to not know each other names?

With a nod, Germany crossed his arms, staring right at France with his sharp light blue eyes. "It's a good plan, but how will I find out Italy's name? I don't know how many know it, and I'm not about to ask Romano for it." France shuddered. Italy's older brother, Romano, would probably castrate Germany instantly if he asked something so personal. Romano always ended up mad at Germany for some sort of absurd reason or another, but this would take it to the extreme, and Germany would rather not deal with it if he could avoid it.

"I would not go near Romano either for something like this. I would like to help, but I myself do not know Italy's name. Try to ask a few other nations he seems _very_ close to." France gave a wink. "Though that'll be hard, considering how nice that boy is to everyone."

A few more exchanges were made between the two and Germany left feeling more confident in his idea and yet lost in how to go about the process of learning Italy's true name.

* * *

When he arrived home, Germany sunk into his office chair, thinking of a plan of attack. While it was important to plan the proposal itself, finding out Italy's name came first. It would be best to figure out the nations Italy seemed close to on a personal level and ask them if they knew and go from there. He took a pen and paper and began to write.

_Romano_

No way in hell would Germany ask him. He didn't even want to imagine how Romano would respond if Italy accepts his proposal.

_Japan_

The three of them were great friends during the war, and Italy does love Japan's art and vice versa. The two respect each other, though Italy is much more vocal about his actions. Even so, Japan does not seem like the kind of nation that would use another's personal name with the way his culture was and how he is so respectful towards everyone.

_Poland_

Italy and Poland had been friends for a long time. There's a possibility that Poland might know. Germany briefly thought about the Baltic nations. Italy didn't interact with them much, so the likelihood of them knowing was close to zero. Germany wrote the names on the side as a reminder to skip them.

"What are you doing writing names down, West?" An inquisitive voice calmly asked over his shoulder. Germany swiveled his chair around and frowned at the person standing there.

"Brother, it's rude to sneak up behind someone and watch what they are doing." Said brother laughed, patting Germany's shoulder. "But West, you already knew I was here! I saw your pen twitch in your hand when I walked up, so it's not sneaking when you know!"

Suddenly, the gears clicked in his head. Prussia! He was close to Italy and had known him much longer than he had. Maybe he had an idea of someone who would know. "Hey brother, can I ask you something?"

Prussia leaned back on the wall and crossed his arms, humming a light "hmm?" in response to the question. "Would you know of any nations that could possibly know Italy's name?" Germany's brother froze, taking a look back to the paper with the nation names on it, and turning his gaze onto Germany before starting to smirk and crack up. A loud laugh erupted and soon he was leaning over with his arms wrapped around his stomach. A bright blush rose up on Germany's cheeks. "Brother, please!"

"HA HA! Oh my God West, this is hilarious! You're going to try and propose to Italy _again_? Please, someone tell me it's a joke! This is just perfect, kesesese!" Prussia fell to the floor, wiping a few tears from his red-violet eyes. Germany was startled. How did he know?! Prussia had always been perceptive when it came to him, but to know so suddenly?

"How-"

"It's written all over your face! Ha ha! Maybe this time you won't freak him the hell out and have him scared for his life!" And this was why Germany doesn't bother asking his brother for advice.

"Fine, if you do not wish to help, that is alright with me. Please get out so that I may continue-"

"No no! I'll help, I'll help!" Prussia yelled, standing straight up and wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders. His clothes were ruffled and his white hair a mess, though Prussia did nothing to fix himself. "Having cute Italy as a brother-in-law would be awesome! Though I recall a certain someone saying that he'd never do this again?" He was sneering at him.

"Yes, I admit I did say that, but things have... changed. I wish to try again, but properly this time." Germany looked back to his desk, hoping his brother would not see the dark blush he was sure was now covering his entire face. He shouldn't have to explain these kinds of things.

"Awwww, did little West finally realize his feelings for Italy? It's about damn time! Now I can get my money from Spain on that bet."

Germany turned towards his brother, narrowing his eyes. "What bet?"

"Nothing!" Prussia shouted, slamming a pale hand down on the desk. "SO! A nation close to Italy? Of course, an awesome country like me would have known Italy's name from long ago, but it's just slipped my memory is all; it's not like I don't know it or nothin', kesesese!" So Prussia didn't know what it was either, Germany thought. The next few sentences went on the same, as though Prussia knew what it was but obviously did not. Germany had to stop his little monologue to get a real answer from his brother.

"Why haven't you tried calling that stupid aristocrat? He did live with Italy while he was a child."

The two did live for a long time together, long before Germany had known him. "Thank you, brother." Germany said, reaching over for the phone on the desk.

"Anything for my little bro!" With another pat on Germany's shoulder and a ruffle of his hair, Prussia began walking out, whistling a song on the way. He almost made it out the door before Germany spoke up.

"_Gilbert?_" The nation turned, looking curiously at his brother. "Why is it that the nations keep their real names such a secret? Maybe it is because in relation to other nations I am much younger and that I don't completely understand it, and I do not use such names except with you. I understand the tradition behind it and being much more intimate, but do you know why?"

"Well," Prussia leaned against the doorway, raising a leg to support himself on the edge of the door. "nowadays it's slowly becoming more open to others, probably because the time we live in now is definitely much more public that ever. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if a few nations told everyone else online on one of these social networks! Man, the internet is so great, I'm glad that it's a thing and it exists!" He smirked, raising a pointed finger up.

"But! Seeing as how I had lived in a time much farther back than you have, I'll tell you. It was seen as a sign of weakness to know one's true name, from what I remember back when I was young. To know one's name was to know everything. It's like in one of those creepy superstitions where if you learn of someone's name you could control them. It doesn't work by the way, definitely only makes other nations angrier for sure when you get caught trying to do that kind of stuff!" Germany did not want to ask what that was about. "Anyways, obviously we have different fake names when we interact with people at times and in public, but our names were something that was intended to be almost sacred and not known to anyone, even a fellow nation."

Germany let the information process through his mind. "Hm, I see. It does make sense, when you put it like that."

"Of course it does! And obviously, someone as fantastic as me would know a lot of names that the other nations try to hide! It's just that I didn't want to bother adorable little Italy with his is all."

There were times when Germany wondered if it was possible for his brother to hold a serious conversation for more than five minutes and keep it serious. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Need anything else,_ Ludwig_?" Prussia asked, putting emphasis on Germany's name and speaking in a sarcastic manner. Before Germany could respond, Prussia gave a loud laugh and turned, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. A raucous "GOOD LUCK" was heard from down the hall. Sometimes, Germany wished he could have had a more normal brother.

His time spent with his brother did give him insight. It was night already, and it was likely that Austria was asleep, but Germany called anyway to see if he could get an answer from the nation while it dwelled on his mind. The phone rang nine times times before it was picked up. A groggy voice answered. _"What on earth do you need at this hour in the night?"_

"Good evening, Austria. I apologize for the timing of my call," Though it was not even past nine o'clock, Germany thought. "but I have a question to ask."

_"Please, just get on with it, fool."_

"Do you know Italy's name?"

_"... Italy? You mean his real name?"_

"Yes. I know you spent quite some time living together while he was a child, so I thought you might know." It would be a bad idea to tell him that Prussia was the one who had told him, knowing how the two bicker about each other.

_"It is true that we lived together for a while, but I did not know Italy's name back then and I most certainly do not know it now. I don't believe he ever gave his name to anyone besides Romano. Maybe one other nation I can think of back in those times knew it, but he is long gone."_

A dead end. Germany shook his head. "Alright, thank you, Austria."

_"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep in before the sun rises!"_ Austria hung up the phone. Austria did get cranky when his sleep was disturbed.

After putting his phone back on the receiver, Germany walked out of his office. He'd have to try asking a few more nations tomorrow and see what he'd get. He went to bed soon after, the only thought on his mind left before sleep took over being Italy.

Italy, his most trusted ally and friend. When they had first met, he had found Italy inside of a tomato crate, begging for mercy to not kill him during the first World War. All the man did was eat, sing, and sleep all day when he had captured him. Even when he tried to let him go free, the idiot had returned after flirting to a few of the local women down the street. Italy confused him to no end, and he had wanted nothing to do with the strange pasta-loving nation that refused to fight.

When the two became allies during World War II, Germany thought for sure he was doomed. It wasn't his idea to become a driving force in the war. His new boss was rampant about it, and Germany did what was demanded of him: he followed orders, just like any other nation. When Italy came strolling along, Germany had no clue what to do with him. He tried to train with him everyday, even though Italy would attempt to find ways to escape sometimes, and trying to train the Italian troops were pointless, at least that's what Germany felt every moment they ran away instead of standing up for themselves. Yes, there were moments when Italy shined out and it looked as though Germany's efforts had paid off, but the underlying fact remained: Italy simply didn't want to fight.

The Italian was always more interested in painting or eating Italian food or trying to flirt with women. He was carefree and didn't let the dawn of war stop this attitude. He was positive and had hope, something that rubbed off onto Germany. Wishing on stars was an idea that Germany had once found ridiculous and childish, but now, just once in a great while, if he sees one he can't help the smile that forms on his face. After all these years of trying to get Italy to learn things from him, it turned out that it was exactly the opposite that happened more often than not. It wasn't really so surprising when Germany thought about it. All his life there was only war and hatred and out popped this slender man of auburn hair and honey-brown eyes that brought vivacity. Everything was dull until this man entered his existence. And Germany can't imagine his life without him.

So many memories had been made with the nation, ranging from battling out in the harsh weather against the Allies to running on a field playing football. Though it took him until the first proposal to realize his feelings, he was sure that these feelings were there all along, back to when Italy was crying his heart out in the tomato crate waving a white flag. It had been so obvious, right from day one...

When Germany woke up the next morning, he felt more relieved and refreshed. He quickly showered and dressed, going out on his daily morning jog at precisely 6 in the morning. No thoughts entered his mind while running, focused on getting the exercise done without any disturbance. Several laps around the park and house was all that he needed for today, since he still had to make some phone calls in order to make a proper plan. It was when he arrived home that he was surprised to see a note taped to the door, his nation name written on it. Germany reached out and grabbed it, quickly flipping the note around while wiping sweat from his forehead. A slow breath left his lips, his eyes widened.

_Feliciano Vargas_

Could it be that the name written there was Italy's? It couldn't be just as easy as this, was it? There was no mistake that it was an Italian name, but...?  
Germany looked to the bottom of the note and saw two small sentences written in green ink:

_Heard you were trying to find a certain something of a certain special person. Good luck!_

A winky face was accompanied at the end of the message, followed by a drawing of a flower in the corner of the note.

* * *

Germany paced up and down his living room, one hand curled up underneath his mouth, the other resting against the side of his chest. He was trying to focus on the plan, but it was becoming harder and harder with the loud thumps of his heart. Yes, he was sure Italy would agree to the proposal, but there was still a possibility he might have missed something important. The velvet box in his pocket felt heavier than it was.

A sound of a bell went off, and Germany stopped, looking up. This was it. No going back, he thought. With his head held high and determination settling down inside him, he walked to the door and opened it, revealing the one person he wanted most right now. Italy was smiling on his porch, wearing beige dress pants and a nice long green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, a few buttons undone from the top. You could make out the iron cross necklace he was wearing underneath, something Germany had given him while allies in the previous World War. It always made Germany want to smile seeing him wearing it, knowing that among the chaotic mess of nations he still had one friend he could turn to. It was a simple look, but Germany was positive that Italy was glowing in the outfit, doing nothing to help his increasing heartbeat. Not to mention it was probably an expensive shirt, since Italy liked to dress fashionably.

Italy waved, his head tilting slightly to the side. "Good evening, Germany! I'm so sorry I'm late, I was trying to find my pants when I heard a noise outside my room and Spain and Romano had gotten into another one of their fights and I had to get through to reach the laundry room to see if my pants were there but I bumped into Spain and got hit with one of Romano's tomatoes! Romano hits very hard you know, he has such a strong arm, ve! I had to get a new shirt too because of the tomatoes on my shirt and some got in my hair so it took another twenty minutes to clean up and I still needed to get my pants and-"

"It's alright, Italy." Germany said as Italy continued on. "I accounted for something to happen, so you are on time." For a second it seemed Italy had not heard, but once he finished the other nation stopped, looking up with surprise.

"Oh! Germany thinks of everything! You're so smart!" Germany nodded, a light blush now upon his face.

"Ah... yes. Shall we go?" He said, offering his arm. It didn't matter if it was offered or not, it was highly likely Italy would take it while walking anyway. Italy did take his arm, quite happily to do so, pulling him out of the doorway. "Yay! Let's go, Germany!"

In less than 3 hours, Germany will have his answer.

* * *

The two went out to a nice restaurant in Germany that they had been to before that offered Italian food (never was Germany going to go into the other one where he last proposed. He wouldn't be surprised if the people there remembered them). Italy had asked for pasta, as usual, and not so usual, so did Germany.

"Eh? But I thought you'd definitely pick the Jägerschnitzel! You usually get a schnitzel here, I remember you praising this place for it." Italy curiously asked, giving his menu to the waiter.

"I just wanted to try something you were going to have." Germany replied, thanking the waiter when he turned and left. It was a part of his plan, to order something similar to what Italy had wanted. Germany wanted Italy to have a great evening and to be able to see his smile, the one that was reserved for Germany solely. Many other nations would not believe him if he told them about Italy having different kinds of smiles. Most nations don't take the time to really understand the Italian, but after being allies and friends, Germany could tell what kind of a smile Italy had on his face. Though there was one, and one only, that was directed at him and it always made his stomach do flips. And by the feeling of doing somersaults in him, he knew he got the reaction he hoped for.

Italy grinned from ear to ear, some of his pearl white teeth showing. "The pasta is very tasty here! We've been here a lot, so it just caught me by surprise. Hey hey, do you think we could have some gelato too afterwards?" He clasped his hands together, practically begging the German. "I believe there is one a few blocks down. I do not see a problem with that." Germany responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Unfortunately, the response Italy had in return was not what he was expecting. Maybe a "yay!" or a yell from his seat, but not for him to lean across the entire table to envelope him in a hug, nearly causing him to dump his drink on his finely pressed blue shirt.

"Thank you, thank you!" Italy said, bouncing up and down. Germany's head was spinning from the sudden attack and of being so close to him.

Germany shouted "S-STOP THAT!" which caused Italy to clamp up with a "Ve!" and sit back down, realizing he was suffocating him. "Ah! I'm so so so sorry! I didn't think there for a minute! I was just so excited about getting gelato later and really happy."

Germany fixed his tie. Did Italy ever stop and think for a minute? He looked around the establishment and luckily no heads looked their way into the back corner. "A-Ah... well, that's fine. Just don't be reaching across the table, especially in a place like this." He tilted his head to indicate the restaurant they were in.

Italy giggled. "Yes yes, follow the rules and all. Very German-like." That was slowly becoming a favorite phrase by the other nations, Germany noticed. Well, it was fine if it was Italy.

* * *

The rest of the dinner went smoothly and as promised they stopped for gelato on the way back while they took a stroll in a park nearby Germany's home. The sun was just setting, an orange glow surrounding the building and trees with a light wind. Most of the people in the park were heading back home, some with children screaming for five more minutes in the sandbox. The path Germany and Italy took was clear of people, heading into a large open field enclosed by towering trees that Italy loved to play football with Germany at every once in a great while. Italy bounced down the field and flopped down on the grass, facing up to watch the sky, his arms spread out.

"Ve, this place is so pretty! And when the stars come out there's not much light here and it's perfect!" Italy laughed, rolling on the grass cheering. Germany sat down carefully, trying not to get grass stains on his good shirt. "Yes, it is." He softly agreed.

Dinner went along nicely, and so did eating gelato together. They talked about uplifting subjects and joked around with one another. The mood was ideal with not a hint of sadness between them. All that was left was his proposal. He couldn't mess this one up. Everything was in place and ready. It just came down to when Germany decided to move into action.

After Italy had rolled around for a bit, the two stayed in their spots in silence, Italy still on his back and Germany in the same place sitting with one leg out and the other bent. The two st in silence, watching the orange sky turn from to purple to blue. They didn't need to wait long to see the stars pop out clear as day in the night sky. Italy's eyes widened after a particular moment and jumped up to his feet, pointing up. "Look, Germany! A shooting star!"

He looked up. Sure enough, very briefly, a light scattered across the sky like a comet. "Make a wish!" He heard Italy say, who began to close his hands together and whisper something instantly under his breath. Germany couldn't make out what he was saying, but he wasn't focused on that. He had a wish of his own.

_Please let me do this without messing up._

A moment of nothingness, and then Italy spoke up, his back to Germany. "Ve, that was pretty! Though we should start heading back, I want to be able to play with your doggies back at your house. They are so cute and fluffy, especially Aster! And of course Blackie-"

Germany took a deep breath, slowly saying the words in his head before attempting to speak them out loud. "_Fel_..."

"-is just as cute! Though I hope Berlitz-"

"_Feli_..." It dawned on him right then and there that this was the final gap, the last thing he needed to clear to truly and fully be with Italy. It would mean that they are very personal with one another... Germany didn't know how much saying a name so precious to him would weight on his heart, until now.

"-doesn't get too jealous. He seems to want all of my attention anytime I visit-"

Germany moved quickly, kneeling down next to his love and reaching a hand up to grab his. Italy turned, the conversation he was talking of now gone like dust in the wind as he looked at Germany with curious eyes. He took the opening he made and looked up at Italy, his expression trying to convey what he was feeling, what he wanted Italy to feel. "_Feliciano_."

Though he had managed to say it, it was said with a soft, tender voice that Germany wasn't so sure was his, one that Italy might not have picked up due to the faint, unfamiliar tone. He was wrong. A quiet intake of air was heard from above him. Italy's arm lowered down to his side, his hand gripping Germany's harder as he faced his friend fully. Germany couldn't describe Italy's face even if you had given him a dictionary of all the words in every language in the world at that moment. It was mixed of many emotions, though shock was for sure showing, and perhaps... hope? Looking at Germany in disbelief, Italy slowly asked him, his voice quivering, "G-Germany? I-I don't think I caught what you said. Could you repeat it?"

He didn't pause for one second and said it again, louder this time. "Feliciano. Feliciano Vargas."

Germany couldn't blame the look Ita- no, Feliciano was giving him. Feliciano didn't even know he knew his name and it must has been surprising for the nation. But Germany continued to look into the Italian's eyes that were slowly watering up.

"It's not a secret, what we feel for each other. Or at least, that's how I've perceived it. Since the first day, back in World War I, I think you touched something in me. Something I didn't think about at all until... until what had happened a few years back. I was blindly letting a book tell me how to go about being the perfect boyfriend, and though the book did have a few key points that were excellent," Feliciano smiled, holding back a giggle. "I should have realized that it's different for each person. For me and you. Especially us since we aren't exactly like other people." Tears now dripped down Feliciano's face, for once not saying a word and intently hanging on to every word Germany spoke.

"I do know however, from that experience, that I enjoy being with you. Looking back on everything between us, I can honestly say it was fun. More fun than anything I've ever done in my long life. And I don't want to lose the one thing that has brightened up my life. So..."

The small velvet box was taken out of his pocket with his left hand, opening it to reveal the tomato ring from long ago, though it had undergo some changes. There was a red ruby instead of the huge tomato in the center and had tiny green emeralds on the side, some designs carved into the silver ring. Feliciano was trembling now. Germany didn't know if it was a good or bad sign, but he'll find out in another few seconds.

"... So, for the rest of our long lives, for however long we are on this Earth, not for a political union of any sort, just to simply be together until time catches us... Feliciano, will you marry me?"

The look on Germany's stern face was unwavering as he stared into the face of his beloved. Feliciano's cheeks were dripping wet from the continuously running tears from his eyes. His mouth parted several times, as though the words he wanted out would not come. He reached his hand up to wipe the tears on his sleeve, keeping it there for a minute. Was he not happy? Did he... misinterpret all of the signs again? Fear dwelled up in Germany. He had done it again, not looked at everything close enough-

"W..." The sound of Feliciano's voice stopped him dead cold. "What... what is your name?" He asked, voice struggling to speak. Germany didn't know what Feliciano was doing, but he didn't hesitate in giving an answer.

"I-It's Ludwig. Just Ludwig."

Feliciano's breath hitched, and for a moment Ludwig thought he saw the man give a very sad, upsetting frown. Like as though he was trying not to come undone at that moment. However, the moment Ludwig believed he saw something it was gone, replaced with a hushed chuckled. "It's a very German-like name, isn't it?" He moved his sleeve from his face, a light smile showering upon Ludwig. The tears were still present in his eyes. "Ludwig." The name sounded foreign on his lips with the Italian accent, but Ludwig was sure his world just came to an abrupt halt. Feliciano said his name a few more times in different tones, testing it like a small child would with a new word. "Ludwig. _Lud_wig. Lud_wig_. _Ludwig_." Ludwig didn't mind at all, staying silent while the nation said his name over and over. It was the first time he's ever had someone say his name like that, and he liked it. There was for sure a different connection, having someone say your real name rather than what you go by on a normal basis. It felt sacred, like it was something that shouldn't be said so lightheartedly. It clicked in his head when his brother had said that this was a personal connection someone was making when using one's true name. It was hard to describe, but hearing Feliciano say his name made Ludwig want to cry alongside him.

"Ludwig. I love it." Feliciano said, beaming. Ludwig didn't understand how he was still alive with how often this man makes it skip beats and tightens up. Feliciano shook his head, looking Ludwig in the eye.

"How could you ever think that my answer would be anything but a yes, Ludwig?" It took a brief second for the sentence to settle in Ludwig's mind. It... was a yes? Feliciano had said yes to his proposal?

The shock was apparently evident on his face as Italy laughed. "We've been through so much and we're always with one another, I'm surprised we aren't already married!"

Ludwig couldn't have disagreed. Wordlessly, he pulled Feliciano's right hand closer, placing the ring on his finger. Feliciano didn't have any time to examine the ring as Ludwig stood and went straight up to him, placing one hand on his cheek, the other intertwined with the hand he had just placed the ring upon.

Feliciano's eyes were lidded, staring back up at Ludwig. It was ridiculous, Ludwig thought as he moved to meet Feliciano's lips with his own, how they had always had this between them and they were just now finally doing something about it.

* * *

"It was a very romantic proposal! Much better than the first!" Feliciano exclaimed to Spain, who was asking many questions about what had happened just the other day after Feliciano revealed their engagement. It took Romano a solid ten minutes to calm down, but the anger in his face was rising once again.

"Wait a minute, better than the first...?" Romano questioned, turning to give Ludwig a glare. "You had the audacity to-!"

Whatever Romano was about to say was stopped by Spain, who had quieted him with a kiss. "Don't worry about it, love. It's about time the two had gotten married!" Romano didn't listen and proceeded to smack the nation, who just kept on laughing. This was why Ludwig didn't want to be here when telling Romano about their new relationship.

Huffing, Romano turned from Spain and faced Ludwig once more. "Listen here, potato bastard, I do not approve of this! Just what the hell do you think you're trying to do?!"

"Ve, but Lovi, I want this too!" Feliciano chimed in, scooting closer to Ludwig (if that was even possible with the way they were sitting on the couch) in the process. This only seemed to make Romano angrier.

"Stupid brother! He's going to take advantage of you! Why can't you listen to me just this once?" Feliciano got up to hug his brother, but Romano had other plans. He grabbed him by the arms and started shaking him back and forth. These two will never change. Ludwig stood and walked into the kitchen, followed by Spain. "He's just so protective of his brother, you know? It's adorable!"

Ludwig nodded. "Yes, I understand." Though not completely. He looked around as Spain continued. "But anyways, congratulations my friend! We always knew you two would get together eventually at some point and time! I can't wait to hear what the other nations will think of it. Ah, but I lost that bet with Prussia."

"What bet?" Ludwig asked, glaring down at Spain.

Spain nervously chuckled, a hand rubbing the back of his curly hair. "It's nothing! Don't worry about it, just a little bit of money. I think Belgium and Hungary had higher wages in their bet though."

Ludwig could feel a nerve popping in his skin. "Wait, are you telling me that other countries have been having bets on Italy and-"

"Oh look! Sweets!" And gone like the wind Spain was, running to the other side of the kitchen to inspect something by the oven. Ludwig sighed. He will find out later what this stupid bet was. "Italy really outdid himself on these!"

Walking over, Ludwig looked down at the colorful, hand-decorated chocolate pieces sitting on a plate. "Italy made these?" It looked like something you'd see on a cooking competition. Each crafted carefully and delicately with bright colors, not a single thing out of place. Ludwig had never seen Feliciano make something like this before, usually he would just make pasta.

"I know his handiwork. He used to make sweets all the time as a child with the help of Hungary. Though I haven't seen him make them in centuries. Man, it's been too long since I've last had a bite of these. It's fantastic, he always makes them so delicious!" Spain smiled, looking at the food as though he was daydreaming of the last time he had it, his mouth watering slightly. "But! Italy promised he'd make some for me another day soon. I tried to eat some earlier actually, and was scolded on the spot! He said these are for you."

This took Ludwig aback. "For me?"

"Yep! He mentioned something about a promise and that he was going to keep it."

"I see..." What promise? Ludwig didn't remember making a promise where Feliciano would make him sweets. Maybe he should ask about it?

"Ve! Here you are!" Feliciano's voice rang out as he entered the room. "Brother went upstairs to his room. He didn't like it when I tried to talk about how good of a person Germany was."

"I'll go up and see him. He's really happy for you both, Italy, Germany. You know how he is about showing a softer side of him." Spain said, walking past Feliciano with a wave. Feliciano agreed as Spain left, leaving the two alone in the kitchen. He walked up to Ludwig, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, Feliciano?" He loved the name the more he said it. Feliciano looked over to where he was pointing, towards the sweets. "These are for me?"

Feliciano smiled, clapping his hands together. "Yes! I made them for you! I really hope you like them, Ludwig! It's been a while since I last tried making sweets, but I'm sure they are really tasty! Go ahead, try one!"

At Feliciano's prompt, Ludwig took one, putting it in his mouth. Even though Ludwig was sure he'd never had one of Feliciano's sweets, he was positive this wasn't his first time tasting them. He thought nothing of it though, letting the sweet taste of chocolate melt in his mouth, swallowing it when finished. He turned to Feliciano, a sure blush on his face. "Thank you, Feliciano. It was delicious." Feliciano jumped, nuzzling his head into Ludwig's arm.

"I'm so glad!"

Ludwig wrapped his arms around Feliciano in a hug, thinking back on the promise Spain mentioned. After letting go, he decided to bring it up and ask before he forgot. "Spain mentioned it was part of a promise? I can't recall making such a promise with you. Can you tell me?"

Feliciano looked over at him, again with the mixed emotions Ludwig saw back when he proposed. But this time, he immediately gave him a soft smile, reaching down to grab Ludwig's hand, the cool metallic of the ring resting against his fingers.

"Let's go on a walk!" Ludwig looked at him questionably. "It's a long story," Feliciano began as they strolled out of his house and down into the light of the bright sun. "about two young nations that loved one another so deeply like no other..."

* * *

**A/N:** I originally started writing this back when _Buon San Valentino Last Part_ came out back in June (over a month ago!) but I've been struggling with writer's block for a long while now and it was difficult to finish (it's really difficult to finish things by yourself and when you don't have someone to read over your writing). I'm still not sure if I've overcome it, but I've decided that I need to keep on writing through this to get back to where I was. I still have plans, lots of 'em, things to finish and things to write. I'm hoping that I can start writing the next segment of CoW by this weekend.

Any questions you have, just let me know and I'll hopefully see you guys soon!

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia in any way, shape, or form. It belongs to the wonderful Hidekaz Himaruya._


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